Chapter Eight: Surviving

General Albert Burkhalter nursed a glass of schnapps while ignoring the inane chattering of a man who, if given a choice, he never would have chosen as a drinking companion. Frankly, he found the whole situation absurd. Klink had finally proven that he was the biggest failure in the Luftwaffe but with situations dire on both the Eastern and Western Fronts, he was the only available officer left in the area to clean up this mess.

Burkhalter sighed. This was his fault for employing idiots. Unfortunately, idiots were useful. Idiots didn't betray him or get involved in plots to overthrow the Fuehrer. And, as long as they were placed in proper roles, he could depend on them to not mess up things too badly. Until now.

"General." Klink pointed at the map on his desk. "As you can see, I have my guards searching..."

Downing the rest of his glass, Burkhalter retreated to his own thoughts about the dilemma at hand. Almost three hundred enemy POWs were still at large. A disaster not only for the war effort but also for his career. Klink would be blamed and inevitably court-martialed but the blood of one colonel might not be enough to satisfy his superiors. Plus, it didn't help that the one prisoner they still had in their grasp was determined to divulge every single time Burkhalter had chosen to overlook some of the unusual happenings that had occurred at Stalag Thirteen. Unfortunately or perhaps fortunately, Hochstetter was too busy gloating over the fact that he had finally captured Papa Bear to realize that their enemy was busy ensuring his destruction as well.

Klink bumped Burkhalter when he leaned in to refill the empty glass. "General, if you could get me more soldiers, I ..."

Burkhalter slammed the now full glass down on the table, ignoring the liquid that spilled over the side. "If I had access to more soldiers, you would have already been shot and I wouldn't be working with someone incapable of finding the monocle he's wearing on his face."

Klink laughed weakly. "That's a good one, General Burkhalter, but I can ensure you, General Burkhalter, that..."

"Think, Klink! You are the first kommandment in the history of warfare to have an entire camp of prisoners disappear without a trace."

"Technically, sir, I didn't lose all of my prisoners..." Burkhalter didn't have to see the look on his own face to know that it was particularly nasty, Klink's response was more than sufficient. "...I...ah..."

Rising to his feet, he said, "Klink, you have already wasted too much of my time. You will continue the search. I will return to Berlin. The next time we meet it, will be at your trial."

Burkhalter didn't wait for a response but stormed out of the office and then settled into the backseat of his staff car. He then gave an address to his driver that was definitely not Berlin. He had come to decision. If he was going to survive this mess, he had to act now. Because, even if all the prisoners were recaptured tomorrow and Hogan suddenly changed his tune, there was no going back. Not if he was going to live to see the end of the war and if there was one thing Burkhalter excelled at, it was doing what was necessary to save his own skin.

He would need to find an excuse to get away from his driver, but he had planned for this eventuality. He had false papers, clothes and a large sum of money hidden away. He would tell and trust no one - not even his wife. He was a survivor and he would feel no guilt about deserting his country in the hour of its greatest need. Besides, he had heard good things about Argentina at this time of the year.

Hogan hated the waiting. He'd never been good at it, not even as a child. He always had a need to keep moving, a brain that never wanted to turn off. Leaning back in his chair, he tapped out the beat to his school fight song. Anything to keep his mind from dwelling on more dangerous topics.

The strange thing was that he could handle the questioning. Interrogations had become a game that allowed him to continue to sow lies and misinformation. And, as long as he talked, Hochstetter had no reason to use the methods he so desperately wanted to employ. After all, matching wits with his enemies wasn't hard. Germans who had willingly defected were suddenly loyal citizens of the Fatherland whom he and his men had captured and discredited while those whom they had kidnapped were now traitors who sold out Germany to the Allies. The only question was which heavily edited story to tell next?

After all, thinking up new lies was easier then thinking about his men.

The sound of the key in the lock announced Hochstetter's arrival before he stepped into the room. The Gestapo officer was grinning. "Enjoying your stay?"

"The decor could use some work. Too much gray. Have you ever considered house plants?"

"House plants? Bah! The Gestapo is not interested in keeping things alive."

"What a shame. You'd be a lot more popular if you were."

"The Gestapo does not care- what am I saying? Hogan, I don't think you will be so glib when you learn that we've captured one of your men."

Hogan hid his fear with shrug. "I'd say that's not very surprising when there's almost three hundred of them running around. Even men as incompetent as yours would trip over one sooner or later."

Hochstetter sneered. "And what if I told you this man was caught making an illegal radio transition to an Underground agent?"

"If radios weren't illegal we wouldn't have this problem." Hogan paused and then said, "That's what else this place needs - music. A little swing, a little jazz-"

"Bah! Bring in the prisoner."

Hogan couldn't help it, his eyes were fixed on the door when it opened and Baker was ushered inside. The radioman looked frightened but relief passed across his face when his eyes met those of his CO.

Hogan's mind raced as he shifted gears and debated how best to take advantage of this situation. Baker was a good man but he didn't have nearly as much experience improvising in the field as some of the others. He would have to guide the radioman carefully and give him as much help as he was able.

As soon as Baker was forced into a chair, Hochstetter pounced. "Sergeant, as you can see, Colonel Hogan is cooperating fully with my investigation."

"No!" Baker gasped. "I don't believe you."

Hogan knew the radioman well enough to know he was overacting but luckily, their enemy didn't notice as he was too busy gloating. "Oh, yes. Hogan has confessed. He is Papa Bear. And that makes you guilty by association."

"I protest!" Hogan shouted from his seat. "We made a deal. You wouldn't want people to think that the Gestapo doesn't honor their word."

"A deal which I will honor once he tells me where the rest of the escaped prisoners are hiding." Hochstetter leaned uncomfortably close to his newest prisoner. "Well! Where are they?"

Baker flinched but his voice remained calm. "Sergeant Baker. 13643846."

Their enemy growled. "If you refuse to answer my questions, I will be forced to move this conversation to more unpleasant surroundings."

"Major, I thought we already agreed that this room is unpleasant." Winking at Baker, he added, "I tried to give him some suggestions to spruce the place up but he acted like it was a personal affront to the Fuehrer."

"Colonel Hogan, if you do not stop talking, I will be forced to return you to your cell."

"No, you won't."

"You seem to have forgotten that you are the prisoner here!"

"And you seem to have forgotten our deal, Major. My cooperation in exchange for the safety of my men. All of my men. And if you harm Baker in any way, our deal is off."

"You can cooperate by ordering your man to answer my questions."

Hogan had to admit that was a smarter gambit than he had previously thought Hochstetter capable of. "Nice try. But I made no promises on behalf of my men. The choice to betray their country is theirs and theirs alone."

"Then our deal is off."

"I guess then that I won't testify against General Burkhalter at his trial."

Hochstetter's hands clenched into fists as he said through gritted teeth, "Before or after you testify at mine."

He had been wondering when Hochstetter would finally figure out what he was doing. But this didn't mean that all hope was lost; he just needed to change tactics. "I was thinking before, but I can go after it you prefer. Or..."

"Or what?" Every part of Hochstetter's body was shaking with rage.

"Or I might be persuaded to conveniently forget about specific instances, some embarrassing stories that Berlin wouldn't look on too fondly."

"I'm listening..."

Baker tried to rise from his chair but a guard held him down. "Sir! Don't!"

"Your choice, Major. But what good does it do to have me shot as a spy, if you're standing against the wall with me?"

"Very well, Colonel Hogan. It appears we still have a deal after all. Guards! Take the prisoners back to their cells."

As the goons led them away, Hogan reached out to his friend and managed to give his arm a quick squeeze. While he never would have wished for any of his men to be recaptured, it was oddly comforting to know that he was not alone. While all his efforts were nothing more than delaying tactics at best, he decided to count every day he was still alive and unharmed as a minor victory.

Sergeant Schultz marched wearily through the forest in search of prisoners that he didn't want to find. Or did he? Perhaps, he shouldn't have let LeBeau go. Perhaps he should have announced that he had discovered the tunnel. Perhaps he should have admitted what he had seen, heard and known. But that would mean betraying his boys. Men whom he had grown fond of and with whom he had never wanted to be enemies.

A visible puff of air escaped his lips; the night was getting colder. He thought of his family and hoped that they were warm. Would he ever see them again? The punishment for losing a camp full of prisoners would be severe, but the truth was, the only thing their superiors would need to do was send them to the front. Schultz shuddered. He couldn't imagine going back. He didn't want to think about using the weapon he carried to kill or watching the guards, whom he had come to think of as family, die.

Exhausted by the search, by his thoughts, Schultz sat down on a fallen log. He had never asked for this war. And if he were in charge, there would never be any war. Yet, war kept finding him and he would have to spend the rest of his most likely short life knowing that he had chosen to save the lives of his enemy over the lives of his own men. What kind of man was he for making that choice? Yet, if he was honest with himself, he knew that it wasn't the choice to let LeBeau go that had doomed his guards. No, it had been the thousand little choices before that. Every time he had chosen to hear, see or know nothing had been what now sealed his countrymen's fate.

So lost in his own thoughts, Schultz didn't notice the approaching solider until he was almost on top of him. Jumping to feet, he squinted as he realized that, while the man looked familiar, he was too short to be one of his men. No, it couldn't be...

"Cockroach."

LeBeau grinned. "Hiya, Schultz."

"You shouldn't be here. You can't be here!"

Carter stepped into the clearing wearing the uniform of an Abwehr officer! "Why not, Schultzie? You're not going to turn us in, are you?"

"You need to run," the guard pleaded. "Everyone is looking for you. The Gestapo is looking for you!"

A rustling on his left caused him to turn his head and see the Englishman, surprisingly still in his regular uniform, join them. "We know. We walked past most of them trying to find you."

"We can't leave, yet," Carter said. "Not without Colonel Hogan."

"And we need your help to rescue him," LeBeau added.

"Help!" Didn't they realized how much his help had already cost him? Cost his men? Schultz shook his head. "I can't help you! It would be worth my life."

"Your life is already worth nothing," Newkirk argued.

LeBeau stepped forward, his eyes full of hope. "But, if you help us, we might be able to save you."

No, no. This is too much. He had already done too much; gone too far! "No," he said, his voice firm.

"Fine," Newkirk held out his hands in defeat. "Arrest me. I won't resist."

For a second, Schultz was tempted. After everything he'd done for them, the fact that they still had the audacity to demand more made him want to call the Englander out on his bluff, but, in the end, he couldn't. He couldn't do that, not to his boys. "No."

LeBeau glared at his friend. "Put your hands down. Schultz, let me explain. All we want you to do is capture Newkirk and turn him into the Gestapo."

Carter nodded. "And if you can't do that, boy, we'll find another guard who will."

Schultz didn't like it, but he liked the idea of involving more of his men in this monkey business even less. "How will capturing Newkirk save Colonel Hogan?"

Newkirk grinned. "Are you sure you want to know?"